


Indelible

by stillwaterseas (phoenixflight)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Daddy Kink, Family Issues, Fluff and Smut, Genital Piercing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Masochism, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Painplay, Pseudo-Incest, Questionable Coping Mechanisms, Relationship Negotiation, Unresolved Sexual Tension, bad professional boundaries, switch laurent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 23:30:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18127955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixflight/pseuds/stillwaterseas
Summary: "He... obviously likes it," Damen said.“Likes it?”Damen flushed. “Pain.”“Oh.” Laurent huffed a laugh. “Yes.”“Is that a weird thing to know about your brother?”Leaning back against the counter, Laurent shrugged. “It’s not even close to being one of the weird things in my life.”





	Indelible

**Author's Note:**

> I started this thinking "haha this is a cute idea, I will write like 5k words and be done."  
> So much for that. But I'm happy with how it turned out.  
> Big thanks to several folks for encouraging me by screaming about how hot this was, and then to [nini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/niniblack) for a thorough beta!  
> Content warning for needles in the context of piercing and tattoos. No sexual needle play.

It was a slow weekday afternoon at Exalted Ink when Damen met Nicaise and Laurent for the first time. The shop was empty when they came in - Damen was at his desk in the back doodling flash. They were a striking pair, both lean and pale, the taller one with gleaming blond hair, the other with glossy dark curls. The curly haired boy looked young enough that Damen’s first thought was  _ shouldn’t he be in school? _

Damen ambled forward to the front counter. “Hey, I’m Damen. What can I do for you?”

The blond man looked away from the art on the walls, and met his gaze. Damen felt his stomach swoop a little – he had sharp blue eyes and fine features.

“Is this all your work?” he asked.  

“Most of it.” Damen leaned on the counter. “Some of the linework is my friend Nikandros’.” The man hummed, in acknowledgement, still studying the framed prints of Damen’s designs. A lot of it was old work, from when he was first decorating the studio – bold, bright images of animals and fruit trees, and half dressed people. Things that reminded him of home. The man’s face was lit by the plate glass window, his hair shining gold in the afternoon light. The teenager looked bored, playing with his phone.

Eventually, Damen cleared his throat. “Are you thinking of getting a tattoo?”

Looking away from a drawing of a lion sleeping under a fig tree, the man shook his head. “My brother wants his nipples pierced for his birthday.”

Damen blinked. “Oh.” He looked at the boy. “How old are you turning?”

“Sixteen,” said the boy, fixing him with a cool stare that matched his brother’s uncannily. They didn’t look much alike, except the intensity of their eyes. Damen looked back at the older brother.  

“I need parental permission for piercing or tattoos on minors.”

“I’m his legal guardian.” The blond man smiled blandly. “It’s complicated.”

“Oh, ok. If I can just see ID, then? What are your names?”

“I’m Laurent. This is Nicaise.” Laurent passed him his driver’s license.  _ Laurent de Vere _ , the name said. He was twenty two. Damen passed the papers across the counter to him, and said to Nicaise, “You can pick out any jewelry you want from this shelf. A straight barbell is best to start with, because it puts the least pressure on the nipple while healing.”

“I know that,” Nicaise sniffed. “It’s called research. Eventually I’m going to have a silver starburst shield with dangling gems, but for now, I’ll start with sapphire beads on the barbell.”

Damen blinked. “Ok. Great. I need to measure your nipples before I can put a pair in the autoclave. Come on into the back. Do you want your brother to come too?”

Nicaise nodded very slightly, and the two of them followed Damen into the crowded back of the shop. The tattoo table and piercing chair were both in little cubicles, so that he and Nikandros could work at the same time when he was in, but most of the time it was just Damen in the shop.

He noticed Nicaise looking around at the tattoo gun, the medical table with the big light over it, and the counter with the piercing tools laid out on it behind the chair. “It’s ok to be nervous,” Damen said, and got a venomous glare return.

“I’m not nervous,” Nicaise said, voice high, and pulled his shirt over his head. His torso was lean and boyish, ribs showing. His small, pink nipples stood up a little even in the warm shop.

“Alright.” Damen glanced at Laurent, who gave him a little nod, reassuring.

Damen used the sterile calipers to measure his nipples and Nicaise shivered at the touch of the metal, nipples perking up further. Laurent had a hand on the small of his brother’s back, and Damen was close enough to them that he could feel the shift of Nicaise’s weight as he leaned back into it, bare shoulder pressing against Laurent’s chest. It was a tiny movement but startling in its intimacy.

“Alright, I’ll be right back with the jewelry.” Standing by the autoclave until it beeped, Damen scolded himself to get a grip. They were brothers. He was imagining things.

Snapping on a pair of gloves, Damen carried the sterilized barbells back. “Alright. Now relax for me.” Laurent stood behind the chair, holding Nicaise’s hand as Damen picked up his tools.

Leaning over the chair, Damen pinched Nicaise’s nipple until it stood up fully, feeling his chest rise and fall shallowly. His hand was white-knuckled clutching Laurent.

Damen closed the forceps gently around his nipple. “Hey Nicaise, look to your left for me.”

As Nicaise began to turn his head, Damen slid the needle through, fast and easy. Nicaise yelped, but Damen was already sliding the barbell through the hollow needle and closing it. “Halfway done,” he said, and smiled encouragingly. He had his own nipples pierced, and knew exactly how much it hurt.

“How bad was that?” Laurent asked, looking down at his brother.

Nicaise drew a shaky breath. “It was fine.”

“Oh really.” Laurent sounded amused rather than concerned, but he squeezed his brother’s hand, leaning down to rest his chin on the top of Nicaise’s head.

As Damen approached the second time Nicaise flinched before Damen even touched him. “Do you want to stop?” Damen asked. “You can always get just one, or come back later…”

“No I don’t want to stop,” Nicaise snapped, and sat perfectly still as Damen pinched his other nipple with the forceps.

Laurent pressed his lips against Nicaise’s temple, one hand still gripping Nicaise’s, the other wrapped around his shoulders, holding him firmly. “You’re doing so well,” he murmured, on the edge of Damen’s hearing. “You can take it.”

“Shut up,” Nicaise muttered, and Damen pushed the needle through.

Nicaise moaned this time, head falling back. Laurent shushed him, mouth close to his ear, as Damen got the jewelry through and stood back. “All done.”

Nicaise was slumped in the chair, chest heaving, curls disheveled. There was a red bead of blood inching down his chest. His nipples were pink and swollen, sapphires gleaming in sharp contrast. The boy was hard in his jeans, Damen noticed. Nicaise noticed him noticing, flushing and closing his thighs quickly.

Damen blushed too and looked away fast. “It’s perfectly normal,” he said, a little strangled. “The adrenaline can cause all sorts of… body reactions.” He trailed off, and busied himself with applying saline and gauze, keeping his touch clinical and brief. When he finished taping Nicaise up, he snapped off his gloves and cleared his throat. “He needs to clean that with salt twice a day until the swelling and discharge stops. A saline spray is probably easiest. No swimming, and absolutely no playing with them for six weeks at least. You’ll have to be gentle for a couple of months.” He felt his cheeks heating again. It was way weirder giving this speech to a brother than to the usual partners and friends who came in together. Neither of them looked fazed though, so he soldiered on, through his usual care and maintenance speech as Laurent paid.

“If you have any concerns about it,” Damen added, “Come back and see me.” He passed Laurent a business card, intensely aware of their fingers brushing as it exchanged hands.

When the two of them had left the shop, Damen took some deep breaths and told himself to pull it together. He had another appointment in fifteen minutes, and it was incredibly unprofessional to be shaken up because a pair of brothers had blue eyes.

 

It wasn’t quite a month later when Laurent and Nicaise ended up back in his shop. Damen was just finishing a session with Lazar, adding color to his half-completed sleeve. He heard the bell ring, and put down the tattoo gun to poke his head around the door. “I’ll be with you in ten minutes – oh. Hello again.”

“Hello Damen,” Laurent said.

“I’m getting a tattoo,” Nicaise announced.

“Ok. Great. Just take a seat and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

When he’d finished adding tints of pink to the peach-laden tree on Lazar’s bicep, he tapped Lazar up, washed his hands, and said goodbye. Gathering up the paperwork, he invited Laurent and Nicaise into the back of the shop.

“Do you know what you want?” he asked Nicaise, remembering last time.

“Of course.” Nicaise handed him a folded sheet of paper that contained a design of constellations and falling stars.

“This is good,” Damen said. The design was simple but balanced – elegant. “Who drew this?”

Nicaise climbed up onto the tattoo table. “Laurent did."

Turning in surprise, Damen looked at Laurent, who was examining the waiver paperwork on the clipboard with unusual interest. “I like it.”

Laurent shrugged, fiddling with the pen. “It’s just a little something. Nic’s always liked stars.”

“So where do you want it?” Damen asked Nicaise.

“Here.” Nicaise raised his left arm and pressed his palm against the side of his ribcage.

“That’s going to hurt a lot,” Damen said, “right over the bone like that. I usually recommend fleshier places for most people’s first tattoo.” Even as he said it, he braced himself for the response.

Nicaise sneered, predictably. “I’m not most people.”

Damen wasn’t about to argue with that. “Ok. Let me draw it on and you can see if you like the placement.” He grabbed a marker as Nicaise lifted his arm, tucking his hand behind his head like a model. Putting his left hand on Nicaise’s side to steady him, Damen turned him toward the light and glanced at the drawing. His hand was huge on Nicaise’s chest.

Damen was suddenly very aware of the soft skin beneath his palm, and the gleam of the piercing between his spread fingers. If he shifted his hand, he would bump it. It wasn’t fully healed, and would probably hurt. Damen remembered Nicaise’s initial reaction to the piercing and wished he hadn’t.

Drawing the design on was easy and didn’t provide sufficient distraction to refocus Damen’s mind. When he was finished he sent Nicaise over to the mirror, and went to the sink to wash his hands.

“What do you think? Look good? Bigger? Smaller? I changed the angle a little so that the comet would follow the line of your ribs.”

Nicaise twisted in the mirror. “It’s good.”

“Alright.” Damen snapped on his gloves. “I’m going to have you on your side for this, on the table. Laurent, there’s a pillow in that cupboard and a fresh pillowcase, will you grab them for me?”

Laurent looked where he pointed, and brought the pillow over to his brother as Nicaise lay down on the table, rolling on his side with a crinkle of exam paper under him. “Will I be in your way if I sit here?”

Inserting the needles into the machine and adjusting the length, Damen glanced up. Laurent was perched on the edge of the bed beside Nicaise’s head, one hand in his hair. “No, you’re fine there.” 

Hooking his foot around the rolling stool, Damen dragged it over and sat, holding the tattoo gun in one hand, and adjusted the overhead light. Everything blazed, beneath it, Nicaise’s skin like white porcelain, like marble. Out of the corner of his eye, Damen could see the gold of Laurent’s hair shining. The two of them were a matched set of luxuries. He laid a hand on Nicaise’s shoulder, skin warm through the latex.

Nicaise bit his lip, watching.

“Sometimes it helps people not to look at the gun,” Damen said. “If you’re feeling weird.”

“I’m not feeling weird,” Nicaise said.

“Ok. Well, tell me if you start feeling light headed or nauseous, and we’ll take a break.” Nicaise was the type to get up too fast afterward and faint, Damen could tell. He turned the gun on, and Nicaise startled a little at the harsh buzzing sound. Laurent carded his fingers through Nicaise’s curls, other hand helping to hold his arm out of the way. “Take a deep breath,” Damen said, and made the first mark.

Nicaise trembled all over, eyes sliding almost shut. Damen waited for him to still and then made the first, steady line, and then the second. Nicaise whimpered, almost lost under the sound of the gun. One of his hands was fisted in the pillow, the other clutching at Laurent’s shoulder.

Glancing up from his work, Damen saw Laurent’s fingers tighten on Nicaise’s upper arm, indenting his flesh. Nicaise moaned aloud, and Damen bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to focus on the design under his hands.

Laurent was bent over, whispering to Nicaise, petting his curls. His head was close to Damen’s, and Damen caught disjointed words between the buzzing. “...about this. I still think... like that time... know how much you... beautiful when you...”

Nicaise shifted on the table. Damen pulled back sharply to keep from messing up his line, and saw that the movement had been Nicaise shifting his hips in a familiar, unconscious motion. “Hold still,” Damen said, reaching out and putting his free hand on Nicaise’s hip, over his jeans. Nicaise froze, and then moaned again, and Damen felt his own pants getting uncomfortably tight.

Swallowing hard, he bent his head over his work again, trying to ignore the soft, urgent sounds Nicaise was making through red-bitten lips, and the gentle cadence of Laurent’s half-heard voice.

Finally, Damen sat back, and flipped off the gun. The sudden silence rang like a sound of its own. “All done.” He rolled his shoulders to get the crick out of his neck. He was still half hard in his pants. It felt like it had taken an hour, although the clock on the wall said it had been fifteen minutes.

Nicaise rolled onto his back, head partially in Laurent’s lap. Damen tried not to look, and looked anyway, at the bulge in the front of his jeans. Laurent helped him sit up, and then Nicaise made to stand and swayed, face pale.

Damen and Laurent both reached for him hastily, and Nicaise scowled as he steadied himself on both their arms. His hands were cold.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Nicaise said, with all the dignity of a teenager with a boner who couldn’t stand up on his own. 

Laurent slung an arm around his shoulders, careful of the tattoo, supporting him. “I’ll help you,” he said firmly, and to Damen’s surprised Nicaise didn’t argue, just mumbled, “Ok, daddy,” and leaned on his brother as they shuffled toward the bathroom. Damen blinked after them, telling himself he was imagining things. 

He sterilized his equipment, washed his hands, and tried not to think about Nicaise jerking off in the bathroom while his brother waited outside the stall. 

 

By the time they came in again about five weeks later, Damen had just managed to convince himself that he’d exaggerated the whole thing in his memory. People got hard-ons during tattoos all the time, and Laurent was just a caring, protective brother.  Within five minutes, he realized he hadn’t misremembered at all.

“This looks good,” Damen told Nicaise, who had stripped off his shirt to show off the fully healed tattoo. The nipple piercings were healing up well too, no longer looking swollen or crusty at all. “Any pain?”

“No.” Nicaise trailed his fingers over the falling stars on his ribs. “Or, only when I do this.” He tweaked his own nipple, and grinned at Damen, sly and knowing.

Damen forced himself not to react, although he felt the spike of adrenaline and interest in his body. It was a natural response to sexual provocation, he told himself. “Don’t do that, then,” Damen said in his professional voice. “When it’s fully healed, you should be able to manipulate it without pain.” Nicaise pouted a little as Damen turned away.  “So, what are we doing today?”

He directed the question at Laurent, but it was Nicaise who answered. “Another tattoo. Show him, Laurent.”

Laurent handed over a sheet torn from a sketchpad, with a cleanly inked drawing smaller than Damen’s palm. It was a delicate ouroboros, simple and classic.

“Another one of yours?” Damen asked, looking up at Laurent. “It’s very elegant.”

Laurent’s cheeks colored a little and he looked away, nodding.

Damen pulled his gaze away from Laurent’s face. “So where do you want it?”

Nicaise pushed down the waistband of his shorts, and pointed at the hollow inside the arch of his hipbone.

Damen didn’t even bother to tell him how much that was going to hurt, just picked up a permanent marker and nodded to the table. “Lie down. This might be a little ticklish,” he warned, uncapping the pen. Nicaise’s belly was soft under his palm as Damen held him still, tracing on the design. He could feel the rise and fall of his breath. Eventually Damen let him up and sent him to the mirror.

“Do you have any body mods?” Damen asked Laurent, as he put on his gloves and opened a new pack of needles.

“My ear.” Laurent turned his head, brushing his hair aside so Damen could see the gold and sapphire stud in his left ear. “And a tattoo for my brother.”

“Nicaise?”

“No, my other brother.”

“Oh.” Damen waited for more to be forthcoming, but Laurent was silent. Eventually Damen said, “Did you design it too?”

“Yes. After he died.”

Damen opened his mouth, and closed it again. After a long moment he said, “I’m sorry.”

Laurent nodded, not looking at him. The light through the high window and from the operating light gilded his face, highlighting his fine nose and high cheekbones. Laurent was so guarded and contained, Damen wanted to say,  _ thank you for telling me, _ but he couldn’t shape the words in his mouth.

Nicaise came back from the mirror. “At first I thought you drew it too small but it’s actually ok.”

“Glad you like it,” Damen said, pulling his stool up to the table.

“It’s his job to be know what looks good on people’s bodies, Nic,” Laurent said. “That’s why we’re here.”

Nicaise sniffed, and climbed into the table, lying on his back. “Laurent wouldn’t let me order a tattoo gun online. It doesn’t look that hard.”

Glancing up, Damen met Laurent’s gaze. Laurent rolled his eyes, and Damen bit back a smile. “It’s harder than it looks. I’m going to pull your shorts down a little, ok? Just enough that the waistband won’t get in the way.”

Nicaise nodded, and lifted his hips up to make it easier. He was wearing running shorts with an elastic band and briefs underneath. Damen had to tug them both low enough that he could see the dark curls of trimmed hair peeking out. Laurent sat on the other side of the table, taking Nicaise’s hand as Damen wiped the area with an alcohol pad.

“Ready?” Damen asked, and turned on the gun. Nicaise nodded. The first line made Nicaise gasp, and Laurent shushed him, one hand in his hair. Damen bent over, one elbow on the table, forearm pressed against Nicaise’s thigh. His skin was so pale that Damen could see the lace of blue veins beneath it, like spidery shadows of the lines he was drawing in ink.

Nicaise was breathing hard, and it was impossible not to notice that he was hard in his shorts, inches from Damen’s face. Damen concentrated on keeping his hands steady, doing the intricate patterning that Laurent had drawn on the snake’s back.

Damen changed the angle, wrist pressed against Nicaise’s iliac crest, and Nicaise whimpered as the needle moved closer to the bone. “I know it hurts,” Damen said, absently rubbing his free hand on Nicaise’s belly above the waistband of his shorts. Nicaise shivered and Damen froze, then lifted his hand away deliberately, returning it to brace Nicaise’s hip. “Just a little more here.”

Nicaise whined in his throat. His head was thrown back, lower lip caught between his teeth. Laurent was looking down at him, gold hair falling in his face, one hand cupping Nicaise’s flushed cheek. The two of them were breathtaking; obscene. Damen’s own cock ached in his jeans as he looked away, back at his work. Tiny cross hatchings, to catch the effect of light on scales, black ink on white skin. Nicaise was gasping, mouth open. His hips hitched a little, body trembling.

“I’m almost done, but you need to quit moving,” Damen said. He braced his elbow against Nicaise’s opposite hip and leaned his weight on him to hold him still. It made Nicaise’s erection press against his forearm, through his shorts. Damen ignored it, and bent his head to resumed the shading on the tender spot near Nicaise’s hipbone.

Nicaise whimpered, and jerked his hips again, and Damen pulled back with an exasperated sigh.

“Don’t stop,” Nicaise groaned.

“Then hold still!” Laurent said. He leaned forward and slapped a restraining hand down on Nicaise’s chest, hard enough to make a smacking sound. His palm landed over one of Niciase’s nipples, and Damen was glad he didn’t have the needle against skin because Nicaise arched up, bucking hard against Damen’s hold on him, and choked on a cry.

Incredulous, Damen watched a wet spot appear on his pants, and smelled the unmistakable scent of semen. Nicaise shuddered again and then went limp, breathing hard. Damen’s own cock was throbbing painfully in his jeans. Laurent was sitting perfectly still, hand still on Nicaise’s chest. Nicaise had his eyes closed. The tattoo gun buzzed loudly in Damen’s hand.

He swallowed, and took refuge in routine. “I’m going to finish this,” he said, strangled. Nicaise just moaned softly as Damen did the last few strokes with the needle, and then wiped away the ink, sitting back. “There.”

The silence after the tattoo gun was thunderous. Damen turned away to give them space, and to hide his erection. His cheeks were burning as he disposed of the needle in the sharps box and put the detachable armature in the autoclave. He heard Laurent say something softly behind them, and the crinkle of paper as Nicaise sat up. Getting a grip on himself, Damen turned. Nicaise was red-faced and avoiding his gaze, Laurent just looked vaguely amused. Nicaise staggered against his shoulder as he got up from the table and mumbled, “Holy shit.”

Laurent laughed, softly, arm curling around his brother. “How are you feeling?”

Turning the water on to wash his hands, Damen missed his reply.

Nicaise disappeared to the bathroom, and Damen turned, drying his hands, to Laurent. “I keep thinking I’ve seen it all.”

“What? You’ve never seen someone come?” There was a curl at the corner of his mouth and Damen spluttered.

“No! I mean, in the tattoo shop. I’ve–” he swallowed. “I’ve seen people come.”

“Oh good,” Laurent said, deadpan. “You had me worried.”

“No, no.” Damen laughed, covering his face. His cock was still half-hard, and he was feeling a little hysterical. “I just... didn’t expect that. Maybe I should have. He... obviously likes it.”

“Likes it?” 

Damen flushed. “Pain.”

“Oh.” Laurent huffed a laugh. “Yes.”

“Is that a weird thing to know about your brother?”

“It’s not even close to being one of the weird things in my life.” Laurent leaned back against the counter. He wore tight jeans and Damen could see the vague outline of his cock, but it was tucked too low in the shadow between his legs to tell if he was hard also. “On the scale of normal to fucked up, it barely registers.”

Damen pulled his gaze away from Laurent’s legs and rubbed the back of his neck. “It must be hard raising a teenager on your own.”

Laurent looked toward the bathroom, a strange expression on his face. “Yes. But I wouldn’t say I’m really  _ raising _ him. More like… looking out for him. I’m only six years older than him. And we’ve–” He stopped, and visibly rearranged the sentence. “We understand each other well. Mostly I just make sure that there’s food on the table and he gets to therapy on time and leave the rest to him.”

Damen raised his eyebrows. At least the kid was in therapy. “That still sounds like a lot.”

Laurent shrugged, looking away. “It is what it is. It’s better than the alternative.” His face was inscrutable.

Damen scuffed his shoe against the floor. “Listen. If you ever... you know, need anything. Or just want to talk. You’ve got my number.”

“Your business number?”

“Yeah, it goes to my cell.” Damen rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “You can text me.”

Laurent raised his eyebrows, but all he said was, “Thanks.”

Damen didn’t really expect to hear from Laurent but he got a text a few days later with a picture of a sink full of dirty dishes and the caption,  _ you were right. It is hard raising a teenager _ .

The two of them ended up texting each other frequently about nothing in particular. Laurent was funny, cutting, and smart. Damen found himself grinning stupidly down at his phone when Laurent messaged him, until Nikandros finally snapped. “Ok, who’s this new person you’re so secretive about and why haven’t I met them yet?”

“It’s not like that,” Damen protested, and ignored Nikandros’ disbelief. But when he texted Laurent goodnight, it maybe felt a little like that.

They never talked on the phone though, so when Damen picked up a call during business hours on a Thursday, he was not expecting Laurent’s familiar voice. “We’d like to make an appointment.”

“Laurent! Sure, ok. Tattoo or piercing?”

“Piercing.”

“Great. For Nicaise?”

“Yes.”

“Tomorrow afternoon, after school? How’s four sound?”

“Good. We’ll see you then.”

The line clicked, and Damen put his phone down, fighting an undeniable shiver of arousal as he penciled in  _ Laurent and Nicaise _ to his day planner. Over the next day, there was a simmering excitement under his skin, almost like first date jitters. It was stupid, unprofessional, and completely undeniable.

By the time they came in, at ten minutes to four on Friday, Damen had cleaned the studio twice and completely failed to get anything else done. Nikandros had been in earlier in the day, finishing some line work for Makedon, and had given Damen some extremely suspicious looks but said nothing.

When the bell over the door chimed, Damen jumped, and then scolded himself to calm down. It was just a stupid crush. They were both dressed for the sun, Nicaise in shorts and a colorful t-shirt, Laurent wearing a broad sunhat that somehow managed to look fashionable on him. 

Damen leaned his elbows on the counter. “So, what’s the order of the day?” 

“I want a prince albert,” said Nicaise. 

Damen almost choked on his tongue. “You’re a minor.”

“The law just requires parental permission.”

It was true that the statute which governed best practices for body modifications made no distinction for genital piercings. Damen thought that their lawmakers probably had no idea what a prince albert was.

He looked at Laurent. Laurent tilted his head to the side. “It’s his body.”

“Can I talk to you for a sec?” Damen jerked his thumb toward the back of the shop. Nicaise huffed out a long-suffering sigh, and pulled out his phone, flopping down on one of the waiting chairs.

“It’s good to see you,” Damen said tentatively when he’d shut the partition door behind them.

“Thanks,” said Laurent, looking a little wary.

“I just wanted to... Is everything ok?”

Laurent’s eyebrows flew up. “You’re the professional piercer. Surely you don’t think there’s something pathological about genital piercings.”

“Whoa, whoa.” Damen held up his hands. Laurent’s tone was harsh and fast as a whip. “Of course not. I just... never mind. It’s none of my business.”

Laurent took a breath, glaring, and then rubbed his eyes, looking suddenly exhausted. “Look. Nicaise has been through... some stuff. He acts out, likes testing boundaries. I told you about the thing in science class last week.” Damen nodded – Laurent had texted him from the principal's office at Nicaise’s school. Laurent continued, “His therapist says it’s important to provide clear, consistent messages. And the message is, he can do whatever he wants with his own body. So, if he wants to get a ring through his dick, that’s what’s going to happen.”

Damen absorbed that for a moment and then said, “So. Let’s get the kid a prince albert, huh?”

Mouth curled up, Laurent said, “Don’t let him hear you call him kid.”

Damen poked his head around the door to the front. “Ok Nicaise, come on back and have a seat in the chair.”

“You’ve finished being boring grown ups?” Nicaise bitched. Laurent cuffed him lightly on the back of the head as he passed. 

When Nicaise sat, Damen crouched in front of him, between his spread knees, one hand on Nicaise’s thigh. He had done this dozens of times with other people, and had never had a problem separating the personal from the professional until now, as Nicaise wiggled his underwear down and pulled out his cock. 

He was half hard, the head of his dick poking out of his foreskin, smooth and pink.

“I need to see you flaccid,” Damen said, keeping his voice even, “So I can tell whether there’s enough room under your foreskin to accommodate the piercing.”

“I’m... I’d need to...” Nicaise trailed off, squirming.

Damen sighed and sat back on his heels. “You know where the bathroom is.”

Laurent leaned on the arm of the chair, looking down at Damen, as Nicaise got up and shuffled to the bathroom. The thrum of sexual energy simmering in Damen pulsed, hard, as he looked up the length of Laurent’s body. They were… something like friends, and Damen wanted nothing more than to put his mouth on Laurent’s cock while his little brother jerked off in the other room. 

Looking away sharply, Damen got to his feet, dusting off his knees. 

“He’s got a crush on you,” Laurent said, sounding amused. 

“Nicaise?” Damen felt something nervous move in his stomach. 

Laurent nodded. 

“Oh. I.” Damen swallowed. “He’s very... precocious.” 

Laurent snorted. “You could say that.” 

“You don’t worry about him?” 

“I worry about him for a lot of reasons, but crushing on his hot tattoo artist? Not one of them.” Laurent leaned back against the counter. His legs were long and slender in his tight jeans. 

“You think I’m hot?” Damen said, before he could stop himself. 

The corner of Laurent’s mouth lifted, almost a smirk, and Damen felt his heart speed up. Before he could respond, the bathroom door creaked open and Nicaise returned, glancing between them somewhat suspiciously. Damen’s cheeks felt warm but Laurent appeared unruffled. 

“That was fast,” Laurent said blandly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Nicaise flounced into the chair and pulled his shorts down again without preamble. The sheer ease of the gesture was obscene, especially on someone so young. His dick was soft and flushed, glistening at the tip, still a little plump and comfortably post orgasm. Damen felt his own cock react sympathetically, but he snapped on a pair of gloves and gently gripped the head, using the tip of his littlest finger to feel under the foreskin. Nicaise whimpered, and Damen made the mistake of glancing up. He had his lower lip caught between his teeth, eyes closed. He looked pornographic. 

Damen pulled his hands back. “Alright, it looks like a PA will fit you. You’re sure about this?” 

Nicaise’s eyes fluttered open, shockingly blue, lashes long. “Of course I’m fucking sure.” 

“Alright.” Damen got to his feet and went to put his tools in the autoclave. 

When everything was ready, he knelt in front of the chair again. Nicaise’s shorts were around his knees, his dick pink and plump against his thigh. With gloved hands, Damen pulled his foreskin back and gently pinched the tip of Nicaise’s cock so the slit gaped. His dick was hardening again in Damen’s hand and Damen swallowed, lecturing himself silently on professionalism. Laurent was looking down, apparently unashamed by the sight of another man holding his brother’s growing cock. Nicaise was beet red but his jaw was set stubbornly.

Carefully, Damen wiped the tip of Nicaise’s cock with sanitizer and lube, and picked up the sterile, hollow tube the would guide the needle, pressing it gently into his slit. Nicaise groaned, and Damen had a brief thought of pressing it deeper, fucking his hole with it until he came, like last time. Swallowing, Damen forced himself to concentrate. All piercings were essentially the same. “Take a deep breath now.” Laurent was leaned over his brother, both his hands clutched in his, watching. 

Damen pressed the needle through, as fast and smooth as he could. Nicaise yelled, and then muffled what sounded like a sob. His cock throbbed in Damen’s hand, blood oozing around the hollow needle. Sliding the ring into place, Damen secured the captive bead and sat back. “Done.” 

Nicaise had his head turned to the side, pressed against Laurent’s chest. His hands were white where he was clutching Laurent’s. His chest heaved, cock bobbing between his legs with the silver ring in the tip, scarlet with blood. 

When Damen sat back on his haunches his pants pulled tightly across his own erection. He reached for the saline, and Nicaise shuddered at the cold spritz of salt water. 

Getting to his feet, Damen said, “Go to the bathroom and go pee, now. It’ll sting some but it will help flush any pathogens from your urethra. But careful, you might leak a little out of the pierced hole, I’d sit to pee for a couple of weeks if I were you. And don’t touch the piercing,” he added sternly, as Nicaise cupped his dick protectively. 

“I’ll go with him,” Laurent said. Nicaise swayed on his feet as he got up, and his brother slipped an arm around his shoulders. 

Damen put the needle in the sharps box and peeled off his gloves as they left together, Nicaise with his shorts still around his knees. Damen washed his hands and ignored his own erection.

From the sink, he heard Laurent’s voice muffled through the wall. “Don’t touch it!”

Damen rolled his eyes, turned off the water, and poked his head into the bathroom. The single unisex bathroom had two tiny stalls crammed into the space of one. Under the stall door he could see both pairs of feet, standing close together. Laurent’s voice was saying, “... keep your hands off your dick for more than five minutes?” 

“It hurts,” Nicaise whined, and Laurent scoffed. 

“You’re the one who wanted this. Think I’m gonna kiss it better for you?”

Damen cleared his throat, cheeks feeling hot. “Uh. Nicaise, really don’t touch the piercing. Six weeks. You don’t want to mess this up.” 

The stall door wasn’t latched, and Laurent pushed it open to peer at him. He looked perfectly composed, although Nicaise had his shorts down around his thighs. Damen tried not to look at the perfect round curves of Nicaise’s ass. “Listen to Damen,” Laurent said, as if he hadn’t just been joking about sucking his brother’s cock. Maybe that wasn’t what he had meant. Maybe Damen was imagining things. 

He ran through the aftercare instructions on autopilot, swiped Laurent’s credit card, and sent them off, with Nicaise walking very gingerly and his shorts pulled as low and loose on his hips as they could go without actually showing his pubes. Damen waved goodbye to them through the plate glass window, and then very deliberately did not go to the bathroom and jerk off. He wasn’t sixteen. 

Nikandros came in later that afternoon for an appointment. As he was puttering around preparing Damen said, “Hey do you think you could lock up the shop when you’re done? I’m thinking about going home early.” 

“Are you alright?” Nik looked somewhat alarmed, which was fair given that the usual line of ribbing was about how Damen might as well give up the lease on his apartment and sleep in the shop. 

“Fine! Just… forgot to pack a lunch,” he lied. “I’m going to make an early dinner.” 

Nik frowned at him. “What happened to ordering a pizza when you forget your lunch?”

“I did that twice already this week,” Damen said. At least that part was honest. “Really, I’m fine. Just tired.” 

“If you say so. Sure, I can lock up.” Damen felt Nik’s worried gaze on him as he grabbed his jacket and wallet and headed out. 

At home, he heated up leftover spaghetti and ate it on the couch, watching the end of the news hour. It was really too early to go to bed, and being home alone in his apartment made him restless. He missed living with someone, even Jokaste. 

He took a shower instead, standing under the water and looking down at his dick. He had his nipples and his nose pierced, as well as his ears, but he’d never seriously considered a prince albert. His dick was usually intimidating enough to partners by its sheer size. He didn’t want to add a variable. 

It had looked good on Nicaise though, huge on his smaller dick.  _ Kiss it better, _ Laurent had said, and Damen felt his cock thickening against his will as he contemplated that possibility. He pictured Laurent down on his knees in the bathroom stall - the piercing miraculously healed but hey, it was Damen’s fantasy, he could do what he wanted - with his lips wrapped around that silver ring, teasing it with his tongue. 

He’d gathered from Laurent that they weren’t actually related - step-brothers, or foster brothers, something like that. So it wasn’t that wrong, was it? To picture them together? Anyway, he couldn’t stop if he tried. Damen wrapped a hand around his own cock under the hot spray of the shower, bracing his other arm against the wall. 

He knew how needy Nicaise got when he was hard; what he looked and sounded like when he came. So did Laurent, he’d been there too. But had Laurent already known, before? Laurent was always so calm with Nicaise, even when he was squirming on the edge of orgasm. Damen felt his cock throb in his grip imaging that cool expression on Laurent’s face, directing Nicaise.  _ Hold still. Don’t touch.  _ Directing the two of them together maybe - Damen thought about kneeling in front of Nicaise in the chair, holding the boy’s hard dick, and of Laurent looking down at both of them unmoved. Damen was leaking over his fist, slick that the water wasn’t quite washing away. He pictured Laurent reaching down; holding the base of Nicaise’s cock while Damen sucked him, guiding his thrusts into his mouth.  _ Good boy. Come for us. _

Damen’s groan echoed off the tiles as he shot his load against the wall of the shower. 

 

He felt a little guilty about it in the morning when Laurent texted him about a crisis with the coffeemaker, but he shook it off. It wasn’t the first time he’d jerked off thinking about a friend, although the  _ underage brother _ aspect was new. 

Still, they kept texting like normal, and Damen had managed to put aside his discomfort about it until Laurent texted him,  _ Want to come over tomorrow afternoon? Nicaise will be at school.  _

The next day, Damen got Nik to cover the shop, promised him half a dozen favors and evaded pointed questions, and followed GPS to the address Laurent had given him. 

It was a big house on the outskirts of town, a little run down, with a wild overgrown garden. A gnarled lilac tree leaned over the front gate, not flowering this late in the summer, but twined with blackberry brambles through its branches. 

Laurent opened the door barefoot, in shorts and a worn, soft-looking t-shirt, and Damen felt his heart pulse a little at the sight of his pale feet, strangely vulnerable, on the hardwood floor. 

“Big place,” Damen said, looking around the entryway. There were photos on the walls, and a bouquet of dried flowers on the end table. Everything was dusty and a little faded. “Do you have housemates?” 

“Just me and Nicaise,” Laurent said, as he led Damen through into the kitchen. “It used to be my parent’s house.” 

_ Used to be, _ Damen wondered, but Laurent’s tone didn’t invite questions. 

In the hall was a large family portrait, taken in some generic studio, showing two smiling parents, a teenage boy with a bowl cut who looked just like Laurent, and a toddler with hair so blond it was almost white. It was like looking through a time machine - the photo was too old for the boy to be Laurent, all 90s hairstyles and faded ink - but there were his eyes and his smile on someone else’s face. Laurent had mentioned an older brother, who had died. 

“Do you want something to drink?” Laurent asked. “I just made coffee.” 

“Coffee's good,” Damen said. “Thanks.” 

“How do you take it? Sweet? Black? Irish?” 

“Irish, if you're offering,” Damen said. 

Laurent nodded and pointed at a cupboard high above the sink. “Liquor’s in there. Normally I would get a stool but you can make yourself useful.” 

Reaching up Damen opened it, raising his eyebrows. It was high enough that even he had to stretch. “Putting the alcohol out of reach... making it harder to indulge?” 

Laurent shook his head. “A polite fiction that Nicaise can't reach it. I pretend he’s not going to drink it behind my back and he pretends he's never heard of a step stool.” 

Damen took down a bottle of whiskey and poured generous measure in both mugs that Laurent held out to him. They sipped in silence, leaning against the counter. 

It was so easy to talk to Laurent via text but in person a silence stretched between them. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable but it felt charged. Damen chewed on his bottom lip, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Sunlight poured through the kitchen windows, making Laurent’s gold hair shine. 

Then, as if continuing a conversation they had already been having, Laurent said, “I do think you're hot,” and put down his coffee cup.

Taken aback, Damen blinked. “I, uh... I think that you're hot too?”

Laurent tipped his head toward the stairs. “Want to see my room?” 

Swallowing, Damen put down his own mug and nodded.

They fell onto Laurent’s wide bed, already kissing. The master bedroom was messy, clothes strewn on the floor and the bed, and dim, curtains drawn, a few shocking rays of sunlight creeping through the gap and making dust motes dance. Damen licked the taste of coffee and whiskey out of Laurent’s mouth and felt Laurent sigh and shiver beneath him. They stripped off their shirts, and rolled across the mattress, humping one another. Damen hadn’t felt like this with a partner in ages - easy and hot all at once. He was hard, a pleasant tight throbbing in his gut, but it didn’t feel urgent. 

Sucking a kiss into the tender skin of Laurent’s throat, Damen ran his hands down his sides, feeling Laurent arch under him, all lean muscle and bone. He had a tattoo on his left pectoral, over his heart. A delicate, vivid star-burst in the familiar style of Laurent’s artwork. Damen kissed his clavicle, and then the tattoo, and reached down to cup Laurent’s cock through his shorts, squeezing him. 

They both got their pants off, Damen kicking awkwardly out of his tight jeans. Laurent’s dick was beautiful, flushed and pink, delicately curved up toward his stomach and already glistening at the tip. 

Hungry, Damen bent to taste it, licking the slick off the head of his cock, and then sucking him deeper in his mouth. Laurent made a shocked sound, body jolting. Humming in encouragement, Damen adjusted the angle of his head so he could take Laurent deeper, almost down his throat, as Laurent gasped and shivered. 

When Laurent was squirming and leaking steadily on his tongue, Damen pulled off and licked teasingly at his balls, sliding further down the bed. He pushed Laurent’s thighs up over his shoulders, and pressed his lips to Laurent’s hole rubbing his own hard cock against the mattress as Laurent whimpered and cursed. Damen loved the sounds he made, the way his hole twitched against his tongue. Slowly, Damen worked him open, with his fingers and tongue, until Laurent was shuddering, hips bucking up helplessly against Damen’s face. 

“Fuck me already,” Laurent gasped finally, and Damen felt a surge of satisfaction at how hoarse his voice was. 

There was a half-used tube of lube on the bedside table, but when Damen asked, “Condom?” Laurent swore and shook his head. 

“Maybe in the bathroom?” He was flushed and rumpled, eyes glassy, looking fucked-out already. His cock had left a shiny wet patch on his belly where it had leaked as Damen ate him out. 

“I’ve got one,” Damen said, leaning off the edge of the bed to fish for his discarded jeans. In the dark room, he picked through a couple of other crumpled items of clothing before he found it. There was a tiny pair of shorts, too small to fit Laurent. “Are these Nicaise’s?” he asked over his shoulder. 

“Uh. Probably?” Laurent sounded distracted. “You find the condom?”  

Damen snagged his own jeans, and forgot about the shorts. “Right here.” 

Even with all the prep, Laurent was tight, as if he hadn’t been fucked in a long time. They both groaned as Damen sank in. He tried to start slowly but Laurent was tugging on his arm. “Harder. Fuck me harder.” Back arched, Laurent pushed into his thrusts, demanding more. 

Finally they ended up with Laurent riding Damen, thighs trembling as he fucked himself fast and hard on Damen’s cock, head thrown back. Damen curled his hand around Laurent’s dick, trying to thrust up to meet Laurent’s rhythm and to keep from coming too soon. By the time Laurent came, shooting all over Damen’s chest, and Damen let himself go with a groan also, they were both sweaty and trembling with exertion. 

Damen held the condom as Laurent collapsed on the bed next to him. He tied it off and considered the merits of dropping it on the floor, versus getting up to find a trash can. His eyes were heavy, sliding closed. 

Laurent made a disgruntled noise, and the mattress shifted. He plucked the used condom out of Damen’s hand, and Damen heard water running nearby. A wet cloth slapped against his chest and he startled. “You’re a mess,” Laurent muttered, kneeling beside him to wipe come off his stomach. 

“Mhmmm,” Damen mumbled happily, and curled on his side around Laurent’s hip. After a moment, one of Laurent’s hands came to rest gently in his hair, stroking a little. 

The door slammed open. They both jolted apart reflexively. 

Nicaise stood in the doorway, lit from behind. “What the hell is this?”

Damen pushed himself upright and brought his knees up to his chest, feeling very exposed. “Uh.” 

“Nicaise!” Laurent snapped. 

“Did you fuck?” the boy asked. There was bright color on his cheeks, and his chest was heaving. “You did, didn’t you? I can’t  _ believe _ you.” 

“Um,” Damen began again. “That’s not really any of your business.” 

Nicaise narrowed his eyes and pointed at Damen. “You. Out. And you...” He turned to Laurent. “How could you?” 

“Nicaise,” Laurent repeated, placating this time, not sounding as angry as Damen thought he should. 

“Oh, don’t want to talk about in front your  _ new boyfriend _ ?” The words were venomous. 

“He’s not my–” Laurent began and cut himself off. “We’re not discussing this.” 

“Oh, of course not! You didn’t discuss any of it, you just invited him over and fucked him.” Nicaise waved his arms. “Here. In this bed!” 

“Damen you should go,” Laurent muttered. Damen was already searching for his clothes. “I’ll text you.” 

Damen was still buttoning his jeans when Nicaise shoved him out into the hall and slammed the door. Through the wood, he heard Laurent say something indistinct, and Nicaise shouted, “Yeah you fucking should have!” 

Wincing, Damen hurried down the stairs and let himself out the front door. 

He kept his phone next to him all evening but it was late that night when he finally got a text from Laurent. Damen was already in bed, and his phone buzzed on the nightstand. 

_ Sorry about Nicaise, _ the message read, and the three typing dots appeared at the bottom of the screen. Rubbing his eyes, Damen squinted at the bright screen and waited for the next text. 

_ He doesn’t handle change well. His therapist says he needs stability to help with emotional regulation.  _

_ If I did something wrong, I’m sorry,  _ Damen said. 

The response came quickly.  _ Not your fault. My fault. I lost track of time. And I should have talked to him before hand anyway.  _

That seemed a little odd, but everything about their relationship was odd. Damen hesitated, and then typed,  _ It seems like he’s been through a lot.  _

There was a pause. The typing dots appeared, and then disappeared, as though Laurent had started something and deleted it. Eventually he said,  _ We both have _ . 

Damen stared at his phone for a long time, wondering what the appropriate response to that was. He wanted to kiss Laurent again. Finally he typed,  _ I had a good time. _ He felt his heartbeat speed up as he watched for the next message. 

_ Me too. I’d like to see you again but I’ve got to work through some stuff first. Are we good tho? _

Damen rolled onto his stomach, propping his chin on the pillow.  _ Yeah. We’re good. _

 

The next week, Damen was sitting at the front counter on Wednesday afternoon working on the accounting, when the bell over the door chimed. He looked up to greet the visitor, eager for a break from numbers, and shut his mouth when he saw Nicaise. 

“Hi Damen,” Nicaise said, falsely sweet. 

“Nicaise,” Damen said warily. “Where’s Laurent?” 

“At home. I wanted to come by and say hi.” He leaned against the counter, hip cocked provocatively. He was wearing short shorts and a bright pink tank top with a picture of a rooster that said  _ stop looking at my cock _ . 

“Really.” 

“Yeah. And another thing.” Nicaise swung himself up onto the counter, bare knee knocking against Damen’s elbow. There was something sharp on his face, a dangerous little smirk. “I want to get  _ Yes Daddy _ tattooed on my ass,” he said, deadpan. 

Damen choked on air. 

Nicaise watched him recover, expression cool, still wearing that small, nasty smile. What Damen finally managed to get out was, “ _ Why _ ?” 

“To say thank you to my brother, for taking such good care of me and being such a good daddy.” There was an exaggerated innocence in Nicaise’s voice that was overtly sexual, deliberately provocative, and somehow pointedly malicious all at once. “I want to surprise him.” 

Damen blew out a breath, telling himself that he was the adult in this situation. “He would be surprised alright. Nicaise, you know I can’t tattoo you at all without Laurent’s signature, and I certainly wouldn’t do that tattoo for you without parental permission. Why are you really here?” 

Leaning forward, Nicaise let the sweet facade drop. “Stay away from brother,” he hissed. 

Startled, Damen sat back. “Laurent?” 

“Who else?” 

“I’m…” Damen hesitated. “I’m not going to hurt him or anything.” 

Nicaise waved a hand dismissively. “I’m not worried about you  _ hurting _ him, Laurent can take care of himself. All a big puppy like you could do is skimp on the prep and make him sore, and he’s had  _ much _ worse than that.” Damen frowned, torn between protesting that 30 minutes of rimming was not skimping on prep, and wondering what ‘much worse’ meant. “No, I mean leave Laurent alone because he’s  _ mine _ .” 

“He’s… I know he’s your brother, but…” Damen fumbled. “He’s allowed to date people, Nicaise.” 

“You don’t know anything,” Nicaise seethed. “I don’t know what he’s told you, but he’s not available.” He slid down from the counter. “Ask him yourself if you’d like.” The bell over the door jangled as Nicaise let himself out. 

Damen slouched at the counter, staring unseeingly at the account books in front of him.

How normal was it to be that possessive of your brother? He thought of his father remarrying and how angry he’d been at his father’s new wife and son. Normal, right? Normal to be jealous when someone new intrudes on a family dynamic. Especially when someone had a traumatic history, like Nicaise. 

Damen rubbed a hand over his eyes, wishing he could stop hearing Nicaise’s voice saying “Yes Daddy.”

The thought of the two of them fucking was his own messed up fantasy - not something that they were actually doing. Wasn’t it?  _ Stay away from my brother. _ Nicaise, standing in the doorway of the bedroom and shouting like a jealous lover. 

Damen turned his phone over in his hands and chewed on his lip. Did he really want to know the answer? If he wanted to kiss Laurent again, he needed to. 

_ Nicaise came by the shop this afternoon.  _

_ That little shit. He told me he was at chess club.  _

A smile tugged at Damen’s mouth, imagining Nicaise at chess club.  _ He told me to leave you alone.  _

The typing dots danced across the screen for a long time before Laurent said,  _ I owe you an explanation. Can we talk? _

Damen felt a nervous squirming in the pit of his stomach.  _ Not via text.  _

_ I’ll call you. Is now a good time?  _

Damen got up and flipped the OPEN sign in the window to CLOSED.  _ Now’s fine. _

After a long moment, the phone rang. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey.” There was a brief silence. “What did Nic say?” Laurent asked. 

Damen fiddled with a scrap of loose paper. “He came and told me he wanted to get a tattoo to surprise you, and when I said no, he told me to leave you alone. Said you weren’t available.”  

“That fucking kid,” Laurent sighed. He didn’t sound surprised at all. Damen ran his thumb along the rough, scarred edge of the linoleum counter, and took a deep breath. 

“So. You and Nicaise. What’s the story? The whole story.” 

Laurent breathed out heavily, whistling over the phone line. “The whole story isn’t mine to tell. But the short version is, I became Nicaise’s legal guardian when our uncle - my uncle, Nic’s foster father - got a life sentence for child molestation in the first degree.” 

Damen’s stomach rolled. “Nicaise…?” 

“Oh, Nicaise wasn’t the only one,” Laurent said, voice clipped. “Not by a long shot. Anyway, he came to live with me two years ago, and he was so lonely and… trapped in his head. He wouldn’t come out of his shell for anyone but me, and we got… close.” Damen heard a rustle of fabric as if Laurent was fidgeting. His own heart was pounding. “He’s… precocious, you know how he is. He’s always been like that. His therapist says,” he mimicked a formal tone, “sexual promiscuity and risk taking are common behaviors in survivors of childhood assault.” 

“You talk to his therapist about this?” 

Laurent snorted. “His therapist thinks he has a nice boyfriend his own age who helps him work on his control issues about sex. He learned to use sex as power, and he’s a young, hurt boy who feels powerless, does that make sense? So he acts out.” Laurent made a thoughtful noise. “That, and he’s a little bitch who likes to shock people.” 

That startled a laugh out of Damen. “So. You and him are… what, dating?” 

“No! I’m just… trying to take care him.” Laurent let out a shaky breath. “This sounds so wrong trying to explain it to someone else, but if it hadn’t been me, it would have been somebody else.” He laughed, a little hiccuping, unhappy sound. “I’m trying to take care of both of us. I can’t really claim to be less fucked up than him.”

There was an ache under Damen’s ribs. He wanted to hold Laurent, in spite of everything. Maybe that made him fucked up too. He wasn’t sure he cared.

They sat in silence, Damen unsure of what to say. Finally, Laurent said, “I’ve never told anyone else about this.”

Damen made a noise that he hoped was encouraging. 

“If you never want to see me or Nicaise again, I’d understand.” 

“Laurent, no! I mean, I do!” Damen had one hand clenched on the counter, the other clutching the phone. “I... I really like you. I want to keep… doing whatever we’re doing. If you still want.” 

“Even now?” 

Damen rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah. Even now.” 

“I would have to talk to Nicaise. I guess… we’re kinda a package deal. Issues and all.” 

“Yeah, I get that.”

“Ok, then I… hang on.” Laurent pulled the phone away from his face and Damen heard him, muffled. “Did I hallucinate the talk we had about you lying about where you are?” He couldn’t hear Nicaise’s response, but Laurent said, “Of course he called me. You’re lucky I have good taste in men or he might have called the police. Honestly, Nicaise. You’ve got to stop letting your temper make you stupid.” Laurent sighed, and when he spoke again his voice was close to the phone. “Do you want to come over tomorrow? After school?” 

Damen felt something jump in his chest. “Yeah. Okay.” 

 

The next day was a Friday, always a busy day, and it took Damen longer than expected to get away from the shop, even with Nikandros helping to cover for him. The shadows were already growing long, the light golden, as Damen walked through the overgrown garden to the old house. 

It was Nicaise who opened the door. Damen braced himself for a sharp comment, but Nicaise just stepped back to let him in. 

“Hi Nicaise.” 

“You’re late,” Nicaise said, but it was half-hearted. 

Laurent poked his head out of the kitchen. “Hey.” 

“Hi.” Damen rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling awkward. 

“Come in,” Laurent said. “You want lemonade? Coffee?” 

Damen thought about licking the taste of coffee out of Laurent’s mouth. “Lemonade, please.” 

Evening light was streaming through the kitchen windows, across the tiled floor. Laurent gestured Damen toward the island and Damen pulled up a stool as Laurent poured two glasses of lemonade for him and Nicaise, and a cup of coffee for himself. There was a sketchbook lying open on the counter by his elbow, and Damen let himself look at the drawing. It was a sketch of a lion, rolling on its back like a housecat, big paws in the air and eyes closed. Damen grinned. The image was dynamic and playful, not something he would have expected from Laurent. They had so much more to learn about each other. 

If this conversation went well, he thought with a nervous flutter, looking up from the sketchbook. Laurent had his arm slung around Nicaise’s shoulders, coffee cup in his other hand, and Nicaise was leaning against him the way Damen had only seen him do after getting mods - as if for comfort. The intimacy, which Damen had convinced himself he was imagining for so long, was glaringly obvious. 

Laurent kissed Nicaise’s forehead briefly, and then shifted him out of his arms, dragging another stool up to the island next to Damen. Nicaise hopped up on the counter between them, legs swinging. 

“So,” Laurent began, long fingers curled around his mug. “You know about us, and you’re here. So I assume that means you’re not completely disgusted.”

“Yeah. No. I mean, no I’m not.” Damen traced his fingers through the wet circles of condensation left by his glass. 

Nicaise snorted, and Laurent shot him a warning glance. Damen wondered what they had talked about together, before this meeting. 

“So you want to keep… being friends?” Laurent said hesitantly. “Or. Something more?” 

“Laurent wants to know whether you like-like him, check yes or no,” Nicaise said, sing-song. “And also whether you’re bothered that he’s fucking me. It was my idea, by the way. If that helps.” Damen felt a little like he was dreaming, everything strange and barely believable. Nicaise kicked Laurent’s side. “See, I’m a good wingman, even though you cheated on me.” 

“I should have talked to you before I fucked Damen, I know,” Laurent sighed. “It was selfish of me. I just wanted…” He stopped and bit his lip, looking down at his mug. “I haven’t dated anyone since Nicaise came to live with me.” He ran a finger around the rim of his coffee cup, not making eye contact. “I miss… being with someone that I don’t have to look after.” Nicaise made an unhappy noise, and Damen saw his pink mouth turn down. Laurent put a hand on Nicaise’s knee without looking up, rubbing soothing circles. “We talked about this, Nic. I don’t love you any less.”

Nicaise crossed his arms. “Laurent wants to date  _ another adult _ .” He said it like he was mimicking what his brother had said. “And have a  _ normal relationship _ . As if that’s not supposed to make me feel shitty.” 

“I know normal’s not on the table, not with us together. I promised I’m not going to leave you, and I won’t.” Laurent reached up and stroked a hand through Nicaise’s curls. “You don’t have to be afraid.” 

“I'm not afraid,” Nicaise spat, bristling like a kitten. 

“So… what is on the table?” Damen asked. “What would it look like?” 

“Both of us,” Nicaise said simply. 

Damen’s brain shorted out a little bit at that, remembering his fantasies. But he wanted to be sure. “So, Laurent and I would keep… doing stuff, and so would the two of you? Or would all three of us…” He trailed off. 

“I’m not letting Laurent have all the fun. Have you seen yourself? I want to play too.” Nicaise must have read his hesitation, because he added, “And don’t get all hung up about how I’m too young, or it’s incest or whatever. I’m not, and it’s not.” He leaned forward, dropping his voice. “And I know you want to fuck me. I know how men look at me when they’re interested. It’s all over your face.” 

Damen tried to find it in himself to deny it, and couldn’t. “I just… don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Hurt me?” He looked at Laurent. “Is his dick really that big? Or just his ego?” 

“No, I mean. Hurt you… psychologically or something.” It sounded stupid even as he said it. 

Nicaise snorted. “Didn’t Laurent tell you about Uncle? Been there, bought the t-shirt, got the therapy. Trust me when I say, you’re not going to hurt me and I am plenty old enough to know what I want.” 

“I believe you,” Damen said, and Nicaise sat back, relaxing a little. Laurent still had a hand on his knee. 

“So what do you think?” Nicaise asked. “You in or out?” 

Damen thought about it, sipping his lemonade. He had already made that decision, hadn’t he? On the phone with Laurent, realizing the scope of what was between the brothers, and realizing that he wanted Laurent anyway; wanted to be close to Laurent, and get to know him, and also couldn’t deny his visceral attraction to Nicaise’s beauty and sharp edges. “I’m in.” 

“Fuck yes!” Nicaise crowed, pumping his fist in the air and looking suddenly much younger. “Let’s go, what are we waiting for?”

Laurent held up a restraining hand. “Hold your horses, sweetheart. Is there anything else you want to know, first, Damen?” He sipped his coffee. 

Damen looked at Nicaise. “Do you really call him daddy in bed?” 

Laurent choked on the coffee. Nicaise looked smug. “Yes. Sometimes.” 

“What the hell did you tell him?” Laurent wheezed. “ _ You can’t date my brother because we’re fucking, and when I’m feeling needy I call him daddy?” _

Nicaise flushed, and shoved Laurent’s shoulder hard enough to make coffee slosh onto the counter. “Well he’s here, isn’t he? So it worked. And I’m  _ not _ needy.” He looked up at Damen through his eyelashes. “If you want to play too, there’s nothing wrong with me having two daddies.” 

Damen, thankfully, did not have a mouthful of lemonade, so instead of spluttering helplessly he was able to swallow, and say calmly, “If that’s something you both wanted.” His dick wanted it too, half hard in his jeans. 

Laurent had recovered and had his chin propped on his hand, looking bemused. “Does that make us husbands in this roleplay?” 

“Damen and Laurent, sitting in a tree,” Nicaise chanted. “K -I -S -S -I -N -G.” 

Damen’s cheeks were warm. “I guess it does.” 

Laurent’s lips twitched. “Well. Welcome to the family, then.” 

Clapping his hands together, Nicaise said, “Do we get to fuck him now?” 

Laurent looked to Damen, who shrugged, and nodded. “If you want.”

“Alright. You heard the man,” Laurent said. “Lead on, MacDuff.” 

“That’s not how that quote goes,” Nicaise sniffed. 

“Oh so you do pay attention in your literature class. Could have fooled me, from your report card.” 

“Fuck you,” Nicaise said, “and come fuck me.” He flounced out of the room toward the stairs. 

Laurent turned to Damen. “This is what you really want, right?” The sun was setting, and the west facing windows bathed the room in giant squares of light like liquid gold. “You’re really ok with this? Don’t let us pressure you into anything.” Laurent’s mug rattled on the counter as he put it down, and Damen realized he was trembling just a little. 

In the last of the light, Laurent looked like he’d been embraced by King Midas, glowing with it, head to foot. He was breathtaking. Damen felt his heart pulse unsteadily in his chest, the last of his nerves fading into a different kind of flutter in his stomach. He ran both hands down Laurent’s arms and stepped close to him, bending to kiss his lips. Laurent’s mouth was warm and soft, and tasted of coffee, kissing back almost hesitantly. “I’m sure,” Damen murmured, against his lips. 

“I’m waiting,” Nicaise yelled from the top of the stairs. 

Laurent closed his eyes, forehead pressed against Damen’s, and then leaned back and called, “Coming,” loud enough to be heard upstairs. 

“You better not be, not without me!” Nicaise shouted back. “Get up here!” 

“He’s a handful isn’t he?” Damen said. 

Laurent’s mouth was curved in a gentle smile. “Yeah. I love him to death and I constantly want to strangle him. Not having second thoughts yet?” 

“Nope.” Damen kissed him, quickly. “Now come on, you heard the kid. We’re role modelling bad manners by making him wait.”

By the time they made it up to the bedroom, Nicaise had already stripped. Damen stopped short in the doorway, so abruptly that Laurent walked into his shoulder. Nicaise was sprawled naked on the bed all long, lean limbs and pale skin. The ring in his dick and the sapphires on the nipple barbells glinted in the light from the bedside lamp. He was already hard, dick pink and flushed against his belly. 

Nicaise grinned. “Like what you see?” 

Damen swallowed. Beside him, Laurent chuckled, and slipped past him, settling easily on the bed beside his brother. He put a hand in Nicaise’s curls, and then looked up at Damen, expression a little uncertain. Damen shut the door behind him and came to sit on the edge of the bed. Laurent held out a hand to him, and Damen took it, squeezing a little, and put his other hand on Nicaise’s slender calf, so they were all three connected. The nervousness on Laurent’s face vanished. He smiled, and bent down to kiss his brother. 

Damen’s hard-on pressed uncomfortably against his zipper as he watched the two of them together - their eyes closed, Nicaise’s lips opening so sweetly for Laurent, the way he arched his neck to kiss deeper. Nicaise made a noise in his throat, squirming, and Laurent pulled his hand from Damen’s to put it on Nicaise’s chest - restraining and caressing at once. 

Damen squeezed his dick through his jeans, rubbing his other hand up and down Nicaise’s leg, feeling tiny shivers run through him. The boy’s cock was furiously hard already, just from kissing, red and leaking. Every time it bounced against his belly it jarred the ring and must have hurt - no wonder he was so hard, Damen thought wryly. 

Their lips parted, and Nicaise tugged at Laurent’s shirt. “You’re over-dressed.” 

Laurent pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it away. Reaching out, Damen ran a hand down his smooth back, and Laurent smiled, a little shyly, and leaned over to kiss him too. 

Nicaise was watching them. By the way his lips curled, Damen knew he was about to say something filthy but he still wasn’t prepared when Nicaise looked at him and said, in his most innocent voice, “Do you want to kiss me too, daddy?” 

Damen’s cock throbbed, a rush of heat settling in his gut. Laurent was watching him with his lower lip between his teeth. The moment stretched, and then Damen leaned forward and kissed Nicaise. 

He opened for Damen easily, licking greedily into his mouth. He kissed with the same style as Laurent, deep and slow, but he was more aggressive than his brother, tongue curling against Damen’s, eager and bold. Damen thought about Laurent teaching Nicaise to kiss and felt warm all over. 

Suddenly Nicaise yelped into his mouth and shuddered. Damen pulled back to see Laurent twisting one of his nipples, sapphire glinting between his fingers. Nicaise arched and cried out, eyes closed and head thrown back. Damen wanted to put his mouth on him, and realized that he could. Bending his head, he kissed Nicaise’s belly, which was ballooning with his rapid breaths, and trailed kisses up his ribs to his nipple, licking playfully at Laurent’s fingers. 

Laurent slid two of them into Damen’s mouth, letting him suck on them, before pulling his hand away and reaching for Nicaise’s other nipple. Damen closed his lips over the small, tight nub. The piercing was fully healed, almost six months old by now. Damen took it between his teeth and Nicaise shuddered, gasping. One of Laurent’s hands was resting on Damen’s head, carding gently through his curls as he sucked at one nipple and Laurent teased the other with his wet fingers. 

“You look so good like this,” Laurent murmured. “Both of you, you’re fucking beautiful together.” Damen recognized the tone as the one Laurent had used in the shop, to soothe Nicaise through the tattoos. That thought made heat pulse through him, and he sucked hard on Nicaise’s nipple, teasing the piercing with his teeth. 

Nicaise was moaning and rocking his hips up against nothing. Damen shifted to press his own cock against the bed for a little relief. Laurent tugged on his belt loops. “Take these off.” 

Nicaise groaned a protest as Damen sat up. He looked wrecked already, nipples red and hard, plush lips swollen with kissing, dark curls a mess from where he’d tossed his head on the pillow. Laurent was shucking off his pants, leaving Damen the only one still dressed. He pulled his shirt over his head and thumbed the button on his jeans, shoving them down.

Nicaise’s eyes were wide. “Nice.”

Laurent smirked. “I told you I have good taste in men.” He leaned over to kiss Damen, and Damen pulled him close, wanting to feel his whole body again. They were chest to chest and Damen slid his hands down to cup his ass. Laurent rocked his hips, dick rubbing against Damen’s stomach. The mattress shifted as Nicaise sat up, and then he felt a small hand on his thigh trailing up toward his groin. He smiled against Laurent’s lips - Nicaise couldn’t handle being left out even for a little while.

He felt a soft brush of hair against his stomach and that was all the warning he got before Nicaise’s lips closed around the head of his cock. Damen gasped into Laurent’s mouth and pulled away to look down. Nicaise looked sweet and obscene with his pink lips stretched wide and his glossy curls falling into his eyes. Damen’s dick was huge and dark in contrast to his delicate face. Cupping Nicaise’s cheek, Laurent trailed his fingers over the base of his cock where it disappeared into his brother’s mouth, his other arm still hooked around Damen’s shoulders. “Such a good boy,” he murmured. “Taking such good care of your daddy.” Damen and Nicaise moaned together at that, the feeling vibrating in Damen’s balls. Damen swore and pushed at Nicaise’s shoulder, making him pull off, to keep from coming. 

Nicaise licked his lips and wiggled his jaw a little. “He really is that big,” he said, without taking his eyes off Damen’s dick, glistening with his spit. “I thought you were joking.” 

Laurent chuckled. “Told you.” Damen’s cheeks felt warm as he thought about the two of them talking about his cock. “Still sure you want to try and take him?” 

“Of course,” Nicaise scowled. “If you can do it, I can.” He looked at Damen, expression melting into studied innocence. “Are you going to fuck me now, daddy?”  

Damen’s dick throbbed and he felt his brain short-circuit. Laurent slapped a hand against Nicaise’s thigh, not hard enough to mark, but enough to make Nicaise flinch a little, mostly at the sharp sound. “Patience. Damen’s our guest. He gets to decide what he wants to do.” They both looked at him. 

Damen swallowed. “Whatever you two want?” 

Laurent’s expression softened, and he pressed a kiss against Damen’s cheek. “Well, you can fuck him, or,” he continued, silky and deliberate, “you could fuck me first, and make him wait.” 

“Um.” Damen blinked. “Both is good. Can I have both?” 

“They’re sequential options, Damen,” Laurent said patiently, a note of amusement in his tone. “You can’t have both.” 

“Me first!” Nicaise exclaimed and grabbed the lube off the bedside table. 

Laurent rolled his eyes. “Spoiled brat.” 

Popping the top of the lube, Nicaise rolled on his back and spread his legs. He grinned. “You love me.” 

Laurent put a hand on the back of his thigh and pushed his knee further up toward his chest. “You’re lucky I do, baby.” 

Nicaise wiggled and held the lube out toward Damen. “Put your fingers in me, daddy.” 

Damen took the tube and knelt beside Laurent between Nicaise’s spread legs, looking down at the pink furl of his asshole, his tight balls and leaking cock with the silver ring bumping against his belly. When it was healed, Damen thought, he wanted to suck Niciase while he fingered him open, making him come the first time in Damen’s mouth, and then again on his cock. 

Spreading the cool lube on his fingers to warm it, he slipped the first finger in. “He can take two,” Laurent said, at the same time Nicaise said, “Another, daddy.” 

Damen gave him another. He angled his fingers deeper and Nicaise arched up, clenching around him. Laurent was beside him, chest pressed to Damen’s shoulder, holding Nicaise’s leg up. Nicaise was panting, mouth open, his hole fluttering and opening easily around Damen’s fingers. He slid in a third, dick already aching in readiness to be inside him. 

Nicaise whimpered and reached for his cock, stroking in time with Damen’s thrusts inside him - his fingers were curled around the base but as he stroked the movement of his foreskin jostled the ring. “Don’t do that,” Damen said, distracted. “Pull your foreskin back so it doesn’t touch the piercing.” 

Laurent leaned over his shoulder and grabbed Nicaise’s wrist. “You know better than that baby. No one gave you permission to touch yourself.” 

Nicaise whined. “I’m so close. I need to come so bad.” 

“That’s too bad. Damen, stop fucking him. It’s my turn.”  

“But daddy!” Nicaise wailed. “That’s not fair!” 

“You should have thought of that before you touched your dick like you weren’t supposed to.” Laurent tugged on Damen’s elbow and he slid his fingers out carefully. Nicaise made a noise almost like a sob. “Can you be good and sit there without touching yourself while your daddies play?” 

“Fuck you,” Nicaise spat. 

Laurent clucked his tongue. “Not ready to cooperate, I see. You know naughty boys don’t get what they want.” 

Damen was looking between them, feeling completely out of his depth in the game they were playing. It seemed familiar to them though. 

“Fine. You two can fuck but you can’t stop me touching myself.” 

“Do I have to hold you down, baby?” Laurent pressed Nicaise’s wrist into the mattress, leaning across him to grab his other arm. Nicaise snarled and struggled half-heartedly, hips rolling up against his brother’s weight. His cock was red and flushed against his belly. “Make you watch while your other daddy fucks me?” 

Nicaise huffed a little whimper, and made a face somewhere between turned on and pissed off. He was adorable, with his nose wrinkled and brow furrowed. Laurent shifted up on his knees, ass in the air, still holding Nicaise with both hands. “Go on, Damen.” 

Damen prepped him quickly. He wasn’t sure how much more teasing he could take, and his cock was demanding to be put in someone immediately just in case Laurent and Nicaise’s game took them in a different direction. Nicaise pouted and squirmed the whole time, his legs on either side of Laurent’s hips, trapped beneath his brother. 

Laurent sighed as Damen pressed his cock inside him, forehead resting against Nicaise’s chest. He tilted his hips a little for a better angle, and Damen sank all the way to the hilt, then had to stop to get control of himself. When he started thrusting, Laurent’s hands tightened on his brother’s wrists and Nicaise gasped. 

“Is it good?” he whispered. “Does it feel good, daddy?” 

Laurent groaned and nodded. He and Nicaise were almost cheek to cheek, Laurent’s gold hair brushing against Nicaise’s clavicle. Each thrust rocked him forward against his little brother’s chest. 

Ducking his head down, Laurent took one of Nicaise’s nipples in his mouth and Nicaise cried out. When Laurent turned his head to the side, Damen could see his tongue curled around the glint of sapphire. 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Nicaise whimpered. “Please daddy, I need more.” 

Curling a hand over Laurent’s shoulder for leverage, Damen thrust harder, and Laurent must have done something because Nicaise yelped, and cried, “Please fuck me now! I’m sorry I was bad, I’m sorry, please, I need it!” 

Damen groaned, biting down on Laurent’s shoulder.

“I’m promise I’ll be good, I’ll be so good daddy, please.” His face was screwed up, cheeks red. “I want a cock in me so bad.” 

Damen had to stop to keep from coming on the spot, and Lauren moaned helplessly, hips backing back toward Damen. “Don’t stop!” 

Nicaise dropped his head back on the pillow. “C’mon, you had him last week,” he whined, abandoning the play. “It’s my turn.” 

“Make me come if you want a turn,” Laurent panted. 

“Fine, let me up.” Laurent released him, revealing red marks around his wrists where his hands had been. Nicaise wiggled out from under him and pushed at Damen’s shoulder. “Can you pull him up?” 

Damen slid an arm under Laurent’s chest and sat back with him across his thighs, his cock bobbing in front of him. Laurent made a choked sound as gravity pressed Damen’s cock deeper in the new position. “Perfect,” Nicaise said, and bent down to take Laurent in his mouth. 

It only took a few thrusts, with Damen buried deep in him and Nicaise him sucking noisily for Laurent to come. Throwing his head back against Damen’s shoulder, he made a tiny, choked gasp, and clenched down hard around Damen’s cock. 

Nicaise didn’t pull off until his brother was finished, and when he did, he was swallowing and wiping the corner of his mouth daintily. He widened his eyes. “Was I good, daddy? Can it be my turn now?” 

Damen gritted his teeth and dug his fingernails into his own palm to keep from coming. Laurent had his head tipped back, eyes closed. His chest was heaving with his breath. His ass was still fluttering a little around Damen's cock. He whimpered a little as Damen pulled out slowly, and collapse forward on the bed. Nicaise looked down at him with raised eyebrows, and then up at Damen. “I want you to fuck me just like that.”

“Give me a minute,” Damen said, feeling his heart rate begin to slow from marathon-running levels, his dick throbbing with the need to come.

“Let me ride you, then,” Nicaise said, leaning forward onto his hands and knees and wiggling his ass. “Let me sit on your cock, Daddy.”

Damen groaned, clutching the base of his cock. “Not helping, Nicaise.” Nicaise smiled wickedly at him, before the wide-eyed innocence returned. 

Laurent chuckled into the bedspread, and rolled onto his side. “You want to sit on daddy's lap, baby?”

“Yes,  _ please _ , I’ve been so good, I’ve waited so long.”

“Sit against the headboard,” Laurent said to Damen, and then to Nicaise. “I want you facing me so I can watch.” 

Taking deep breaths to control himself, Damen propped himself at the head of the bed. Nicaise grabbed the tube of lube and crawled over to straddle his lap. His dick bumped against Damen’s thigh, and Nicaise moaned, freezing for a moment. 

“Careful,” Laurent chided him. “Do you want to get fucked or not?” 

“ _ Fuck you _ I do,” Nicaise managed, and reached behind him to wrap slick fingers around Damen’s cock. There was a sharp smack as Laurent slapped Nicaise’s thigh, and Nicaise’s breath hitched but he didn’t stop. Damen made a strangled sound as Nicaise sat back in his lap, his hole beginning to ease open around the head of Damen’s dick. 

“Oh my god,” Nicaise whined, “Oh, holy fuck, you’re so fucking big.” 

“You ok?” Damen managed. Nicaise wasn’t as tight as Laurent had been the first time Damen fucked him, a week ago, but he was clenching rhythmically around Damen’s cock as sank down onto him.

“Yes,” Nicaise hissed. until Damen was pressed balls-deep against his ass. Laurent his head propped on his arm, watching them, stroking one hand up and down Nicaise’s thigh. “Tell me how it feels, baby.” 

“He’s huge,” Nicaise gasped. “Oh god, he’s so deep inside me. It feels so good. 

Damen got his hands under Nicaise’s thighs, lifting him up bodily enough to thrust into him, letting gravity help drag Nicaise back down on his cock. 

Nicaise made a little hiccupping sound and said, “Fuck,” in a small voice. 

“Good?” Damen asked, pausing. 

“Don’t stop,” Laurent and Nicaise said at once.

Damen didn’t, and Nicaise gasped and writhed as Damen bounced him bodily on his cock. Laurent got up to his knees, and crawled up the bed to join them. “Hands on my shoulders, baby,” he said. “Take your weight off daddy’s lap so he can fuck you harder.”

Nicaise pitched forward a little, clutching at Laurent. It changed the angle of Damen’s cock in him and they both moaned. It lifted Nicaise’s center of gravity, making it easier to fuck him without lifting his weight and Damen braced his heels on the bed to fuck up into him. 

Laurent and Nicaise were face to face, on their knees, Nicaise leaning on Laurent for balance, both hands on his shoulders, and Laurent had his hands splayed on Nicaise's chest. He was small enough compared to Damen that Damen could look down over his shoulder and see everything. Nicaise’s cock bobbed between them, furiously red, the silver ring at the tip dripping pre-come. 

Nicaise gasped and clenched down around Damen's dick as Laurent fingers found his nipples. Laurent twisted and pulled the sapphire studs between his fingers, nipples pink and swollen. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” Nicaise whimpered. 

“You’re so good like this,” Laurent murmured, still teasing his nipples. “Taking daddy’s huge cock like a good boy.” Nicaise’s mouth was open, lips bitten and wet, eyes squeezed shut. He whined at the praise, and Laurent stroked a hand through his damp curls, brushing against Damen’s shoulder. “My sweet boy. Our sweet boy.” 

Damen’s thighs were straining and sweat was soaking the pillows behind his back as he pounded Nicaise. His balls were tight and aching, the need to come coiled urgently in his gut. “I need,” he gasped, “I can’t… much longer.” 

“Not yet, not yet, please I need a little more. I’m so close.” Nicaise’s face was red and screwed up, almost crying. “ _ Please _ fuck me. Please don’t stop, daddy!” 

Calling on the last of his strength and self control, Damen dug his fingers into Nicaise’s hips and fucked him as hard as he could, thighs and abdomen burning. Head thrown back, Nicaise wailed, cock twitching in the air. 

“Come for us, baby,” Laurent said, and smacked his open palm over Nicaise’s left nipple. 

NIcaise screamed, whole body convulsing. His dick jerked, untouched, and shot a pearly strand of come into the air like a leaping fish. His ass tightened almost painfully around Damen’s cock, and Damen let himself go, coming hard inside him, vision almost whiting out. 

When he could think again, Nicaise was limp in his lap, dick plump and softening, the ring of the prince albert dripping obscenely with his come. Damen’s brain was still offline. “You’ve got to wash that off,” he said automatically. “With saline solution.” 

“Noooo,” Nicaise whined, eyes still closed. “Don’t make me move.” 

Laurent tugged a little on his hair. “You heard daddy. You wanted a piercing and now you have to take care of it.” 

Nicaise pouted and lifted himself up off Damen’s cock. Damen choked a little as it slipped out of him. “You’re so mean.”  

“Come on, baby, I’ll help you.” 

Damen closed his eyes as they disappeared to the bathroom, Nicaise bitching indistinctly. He was almost asleep when Laurent returned with a wet rag, wiping him down. Nicaise promptly crawled back into his lap to cuddle, and Damen reached an arm out for Laurent. Laurent turned the lights out with a click and came to join them. 

“He's so comfy., Laurent can we keep him?” Nicaise mumbled into Damen's chest.

“That's up to him, baby,” Laurent said gently as the mattress dipped under him, and Damen felt his fingers stroking through his hair. 

Sighing, Damen wrapped an arm around each of them. They rolled so all three of them were in a pile, with Nicaise in the middle, half on top of both of them. Laurent’s head was on Damen’s bicep, and Damen could tell that he was going to lose circulation entirely in at least two limbs if they slept like this, but he was grinning in dark, unable to care. 

 

Damen woke to pale morning light streaming through the window. The curtains were drawn back and he could see the clear sky outside. Nicaise was curled against his chest, warm and heavy, breathing steadily, drooling a little. It was already hot enough that the covers had been kicked down around their knees. There were visible marks on Nicaise’s wrists and hips where they had held him last night. Seeing them made a guilty jolt of arousal thrum through Damen. 

Laurent was sitting up in bed beside them, naked with his sketchbook on his lap. He smiled silently at Damen when he saw he was awake, and Damen smiled helplessly back at him. “What are you working on?” he whispered, voice rasping. 

“Another tattoo,” Laurent said softly. 

“What is it?” 

“It’s a surprise. You’ll have to stick around to find out.” Leaning over, Laurent kissed him lightly, and Damen felt something incredulously bright expanding in his chest. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!  
> I'm @stillwaterseas on tumblr or you can find my [fandom blog here.](https://seas-of-ios.tumblr.com/)  
> The epilogue that I was too lazy to write is that Damen draws "Yes Daddy" on Nic's ass in sharpie and Laurent freaks out until he realizes it is just marker, and then spanks Nicaise until Damen distracts him by fucking him through the mattress. In case you were wondering, they live happily ever after. Laurent and Nicaise's therapist is thrilled with all the progress they are making and the stability that Laurent's new boyfriend has brought into their home.  
> Nikandros wishes they would stop fucking in the shop.


End file.
